Chapter 16
October
You make me lose control
Cecily
I wake to light spilling across the room and, instead of complaining about forgetting to close the curtains the night before, I smile. For the second night in a row, I fell asleep beneath a sky full of stars and woke to the sun lighting up every inch of the room.
It’s impossible not to smile when you wake to a view like this. Alexander couldn’t have chosen a better place to build his home.
From the moment I stepped inside two days ago, it felt as though the house had a life of its own, everything in pale tones, light pouring into every corner from the large glass walls.
The living room, all rich wood and elegance, held a modern fireplace that invited you to linger and imagine entire afternoons spent there with a book on cold days.
The kitchen, beautiful beyond words, had its pale marble island and countertops softened by thoughtful details that made the space feel both functional and cozy.
And in the back... through walls of glass, the indoor pool and spa looked as though they were floating in the glow of the garden lights, like an extension of the garden itself.
Everything so perfectly balanced that it made me feel at peace at first sight.
Upstairs, Alexander showed me the bedroom that would be mine, a beautiful space done in light colors with a large bed that proved to be one of the best I had ever slept in. He then pointed toward his room at the end of the hall, saying goodnight with a kiss on my cheek.
He did the same yesterday, when we returned home after spending the entire day wandering the seemingly endless grounds of his family’s estate.
Sam came with us, running freely between the olive groves, workers stopping along the way to scratch behind his ears or say a few words to him as if he were part of the crew.
When one of the men responsible for the fields asked if Alexander wanted to show me how the olive oil is made, he waved it off with a smile.
“I’ll admit,” he said lightly, “when it comes to this side of my family’s business, my ignorance is almost shameful.
The little I do know comes from my teenage years helping my uncles, but my heart always lived with Santoro Marmo. .. and with engineering.”
I teased him, telling him he couldn’t possibly be brilliant at everything.
From Antonello, I learned that the family’s olive oil operation was purposely small, a niche operation focused on gourmet, limited-production lines, created especially for restaurants that prized authenticity over scale and sold exclusively within the European market.
When he called it ‘small,’ I glanced around the sprawling room where the oil was produced. Antonello only laughed at my expression and explained that there were operations far larger, some not far from here, including a nearby villa they worked with.
We ended the day having dinner with his family, this time in the formal dining room. One thing I quickly learned about Tuscany in October was that although the days were gentle, even warm at times, the evenings fell cold and fast.
By the time we drove home, I was already drifting in and out of sleep in the passenger seat. Alexander joked that he might have to carry me upstairs, and I reminded him about the elevator he built for his grandmother’s visits.
When we reached my bedroom door, he kissed my cheek and murmured, “Buona notte, Cecilia,” [L]before disappearing down the hall to his own room.
It’s been three days since we kissed in Edinburgh. And although we seek out each other’s touch more easily now—our fingers intertwining when we walk, his lips always touching my forehead or the tip of my nose in fleeting tenderness—he hasn’t kissed me again.
And calling what happened back then a kiss doesn’t even feel right. I was consumed by him.
It felt as though my entire body had caught fire, like I wanted to crawl out of my own skin and vanish into his. It’s terrifying to realize exactly how much I wanted him. Want him.
After Colin’s betrayal, I couldn’t even bring myself to imagine kissing someone else. And when Alexander was in New York the last time, I never could have guessed it would feel like this. I couldn’t explain it if I tried.
I glance at the clock. 7:55 a.m. I push the blankets aside and sit up. After making the bed, I head to the bathroom to get ready for the day.
Dressed in jeans, sneakers, a white spaghetti-strap top, and a light wool cardigan, I pull my hair into a loose ponytail and make my way downstairs, catching the smell of coffee and the deep murmur of Alexander’s voice drifting through the house in quick Italian.
When I reach the kitchen, I notice he’s wearing earbuds, so I just smile, cross the room, and pour myself a cup of the coffee he made.
As I sip, I watch him move between counter and stove, finishing the eggs and bacon with efficient movements. He’s in gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt that shows off every hard line of his torso, and my eyes keep betraying me, drifting again and again to the veins along his forearms as he works.
When the toaster pops, I go to retrieve the slices and put a few more into the slots. I reach for plates in the cabinets, open the wrong door twice before finding the right one, and set them on the other side of the island, where we’d had breakfast the morning before.
Alexander disconnects from his call a moment later, walks over, and kisses my cheek as he says, “Buongiorno, bella.”[LI]
“Buongiorno.”
We sit down to eat, and I ask, “Will there ever be a day when I wake up before you and make the coffee?”
He smiles and shakes his head.
“It’s a habit. I always wake up early. I either run around the property or use the equipment here to work out. It’s the same when I’m in Milan.”
“Was your call about work?”
He nods and takes another sip of his coffee. “Yes. Nothing serious. Just sorting out a few details.”
“Alexander, I don’t want to get in the way of your work. I can manage on my own, exploring the area and—”
“I’ve worked for my family’s company since I was seventeen,” he interrupts gently.
“I started at the front desk and learned every part of the business on my way up. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s how to build a team strong enough to let me step away for days, even weeks, without everything falling apart. ”
He rests his hand over mine. “There’s nothing I want more than spending the next few days showing you the wonders of my country.”
I smile, but before I can even get a word out, Sam bursts in from the living room, barking joyfully. He trots right up to me, and I laugh, scratching his head. “He must love having so much space to run.”
“He does,” Alexander says. “And he knows where he can and can’t go. He never leaves the property. That’s why I only take him with me when I’m not traveling for work. I’d rather leave him here with my family, free to roam.”
“Like when you were in the Hamptons?”
“Yeah. I spent two weeks with my sister. Her birthday’s at the end of August, but as you already know, she ditched me and went off with a group of friends instead.”
I smile. “Your sister sounds like quite a character.”
“She definitely is.” His mouth curves. “And I have to remind her to send you your painting.”
“Oh, that’s right! With all the travel arrangements, it slipped my mind. Did you bring yours?”
He meets my eyes before answering. “Yes. It’s in my room. On the wall, right across from my bed.”
We hold each other’s gaze until Sam licks my hand, breaking the spell.
Alexander stands, loads our plates into the dishwasher, and heads upstairs to get ready before we leave.
And all the while, my mind keeps going back to the way he looked at me when he spoke about the painting. His bedroom is the only place in the house I haven’t seen yet. Well... that and the terrace.
I call Sam and step outside with him to wait for Alexander, letting the landscape clear my head.
Alexander
“It feels almost surreal to be standing in the exact spot where one of my favorite movies was shot,” Cecilia says, turning in a full circle to take in every corner of Piazza San Michele.
“It’s...” She hesitates, searching for the right word, then laughs when it finally finds her. “è meravigliosa!”[LII]
I smile and keep watching her as she wanders ahead of me, noticing every detail as if the city itself had been waiting just for her.
We spent the morning in Calci, wandering through its museums and visiting the Pieve dei Santi Giovanni ed Ermolao, then had lunch at a small, charming trattoria nearby. Now we’re in Lucca, letting the day end here.
“You have more in common with Nicole Kidman’s character in that film than just your hair color,” I say in a half-teasing tone.
She turns back to me, brow lifting. “Should I take that as a compliment?”
“Without a doubt. Like Isabel Archer, you’re intelligent and independent. You dream without fear, but you always have a foot in reality. And most importantly, you chose to live a life made of your own choices, not dictated by anyone else’s expectations.”
With each word, I move closer, crossing the space separating us until only a breath remains. I lift my hand and tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering for just a second too long.
“And there’s a vulnerability in you,” I add, “so open, it stands in perfect contrast to the strength you carry. Not despite it... but because of it.”
I only hope our ending won’t mirror her favorite character’s... a thought I keep to myself, unwilling to be the one to dim that light in her eyes.
Cecilia looks at me, speechless. A thousand emotions cross her face all at once. I half expect a witty remark. But that’s not what comes from her beautiful lips.
“Why haven’t you kissed me again?”
There is longing in her voice. And something far more fragile than desire.
“Do you want me to?” I ask, not masking my own feelings.
She exhales, but doesn’t look away from me. “You’re answering my question with another one.”